


Mercury Lounge

by diamondgore



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Clubbing, M/M, Sort Of, night out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 17:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16664932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondgore/pseuds/diamondgore
Summary: Warren knows the city better than Bobby, so, of course , he has to take him out to his favorite club.





	Mercury Lounge

**Author's Note:**

> I physically restrained myself from writing this but couldn't. 
> 
> I was reading the old Uncanny X-Men series, and well, Warren's more of a party animal than I expected. I tried to capture that old school vibe with this, so I hope I did that well. 
> 
> Oh yeah, how about [some old school music ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=56_tMgR3FXw)for this one, huh?

Warren is an aesthetic smoker, he thinks he looks so cool with a black cigarette hanging from his lips, as if it might make him look more mysterious. He holds it in between his lips tightly as he struggles with the ornate lighter in his hands.

 

Bobby hates it when he smokes, but he won’t complain. Not that Bobby would ever complain, even he had both of his legs snapped, he’d stay quiet, afraid of being a bother. Bobby instead fixes the collar of his shirt, maintaining eye-contact with the club in front of them. The windows are stained bright purple and there’s lights shining from the inside, but Bobby can’t find out what’s inside. His friend wouldn’t tell him either.

 

Warren finally lights his cigarette and coughs when he takes his first hit. His lungs are much too used to the fresh air in the top of the atmosphere rather than dusty with smoke.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay with me tagging along?” Bobby asks, watching Warren struggle with the cigarette in his hands. 

 

Warren smokes only half of it before deciding to put it out using the stone wall behind him, he crunches it then pulls out a napkin to wrap it in. He turns his head to Bobby, so that they can converse better in the wind. Warren smiles.

 

“Yeah, you’re my good friend. I heard you were down on your dating luck.” Warren explains.

 

“Ugh, is there anyone that hasn’t heard about Zelda and I?”

 

Warren shrugs. “I’m sure Scott hasn’t gotten the message yet.” 

 

Warren’s smile disappears from his face as easily as it appeared when the wind blows against them. Bobby doesn’t seem to have a problem with the subzero temperature as much as Warren does. He fixes the collar of his jacket, pulling it tightly around him. Bobby’s only wearing a light jacket with no socks on, he can’t particularly feel how cold everything is around him.

 

“Are we gonna go in? Or are we just here to stand outside and look pretty?” Bobby asks, trying to change the subject from Zelda, and his embarrassing track record with girls. 

 

“No need to be hasty, sweetheart.” Warren teases, and then takes Bobby’s hand from his pocket with his own gloved hand. “Let’s go be pretty inside.” 

 

Bobby doesn’t resist, and instead lets Warren drag him inside. As they’re walking towards the club, Bobby can hear the loud thumping rock music coming from the inside. He didn’t think that this was they type of scene Warren would be seen in, but he is only now realizing, he might not know Warren nearly as well as he thought. 

 

He stares down Warren, noticing that either both of his ears of pierced, or his earrings are clip ons. Underneath his stuffy double-breasted jacket, he’s wearing tight dark jean pants which were generally not part of wardrobe. His friend really went all out for the night ; a memo about where the duo were going would’ve been appreciated. He felt _terribly_ underdressed.  Bobby still hasn’t figured out what was going inside the club, and the fact that they didn’t need to immediately bust out their ids at the door, made him even more worried. 

 

_ Just what type of club is this?  _

 

It takes only a few bats of the eye from Warren for the bouncer to let them in, and Bobby was taken back at the world he just entered. 

 

The entire room was soaked in purple and blue lighting. There was a foreign band performing on stage, German, Russian, something European. It takes only a minute for Warren to abandon him, all for a good cause although. Warren had left him alone while he went to hang his much too formal jacket in the closet. Bobby wished he could hide in that closet, rather than being out of place at a club with people he didn’t recognize. Everyone here was dressed in tight ripped pants, and skin tight shirts. Many of them had their hair dyed black, or were covered in piercings, or they were a mix of the two. The crowd was a sea of all types of people, but almost all of them are heavily stylized in their leather jackets in the much too warm club. Bobby is really feeling the heat. 

 

_ This was totally not his scene _ . 

 

Warren comes back, and hooks with arms with Bobby. He’s only wearing a dark t-shirt, and a silver necklace with a round pendant. “You look uncomfortable, slushy. Something wrong?" 

 

“You didn’t tell me we were going to a disco!” It was the wrong name for it, but Bobby couldn’t come up with a correct name for something he’s never been to. His shoulders become tense, and he doesn’t want to move from the safe space near the door where he could clearly see the exit, and run if he wanted to. “I could’ve dressed for this!” 

 

“I was afraid that you wouldn’t come of I told you.” 

 

“Warren, I look like a total chump!” Bobby retorts. “If you told me I could’ve  _ prepared _ .” 

 

“Oh, please Bobby, as if you’d know how to dress to an event like this.” Warren pauses for a moment to think. “What if I gave you my shirt, would that be better?” 

 

Bobby’s face turns red. He thinks about everyone in the club seeing his naked body, even though everyone's too occupied with their own selves, it could still be a possibility.  “No, obviously not.” He says, “I would, however, like it if you warned me next time.” 

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you _next_ time we go.” Warren says and then drags him out of the entrance. “Let’s go get something to drink!”

 

Warren’s vibe changed from the usually constrained and lost-in-thought man that Bobby usually saw in school. He has the same sparkle in his eyes that he usually has when he’s flying. 

 

They both make their way to the bar at the back of the club, with only a little struggle. Who knew that people in this type of establishment could be so friendly!

 

Warren sits down on one of the empty stools at the center of the bar, while Bobby sits to his right. Bobby sets his elbow down and leans on the counter. He can’t find a menu so he’s going through a list of general cocktails that won’t make him sound like too much of a straight edge. But Warren doesn’t seem to have the same anxiety he does.

 

He waves his hand at the bar tender to get his attention. The bartender is handsome, he has dark skin, and hickory eyes that were as deep as the forest. He seems to be good friends with Warren, as his face brightens when they lock eyes. 

 

“Worthy, it’s nice to see you, again! It’s been too long.” He’s not from Long Island, like Bobby and Warren, his accent is from somewhere deep in Brooklyn. 

 

“It’s nice to see you too, Percy.” Warren lips curl into his sultry smile. Bobby holds his breath. “I bought a friend with me today.” Warren wraps his arms around Bobby, pulling him uncomfortably close. 

 

“He’s cute.” Percy smiles at Bobby, and Bobby weakly pulls his lips into a smile. He’s trying to be friendly. “So what will it be for you two?” 

 

“A Snowball, and a Pink Lady. You know how I like it.” 

 

“Is the Snowball for your boy?” Percy asks. 

 

Warren nods, and then reaches for his wallet to pull out some cash. Bobby stares down Warren as Percy walks away to prepare the drinks. 

 

“ _ Snowball _ ? Really?” Bobby’s not impressed by the fact that this is Warren’s idea of a poor joke. 

 

“It’s Advocaat and lemon juice, you’ll like it. It’s sweet and tart.” Warren says, then looks at Percy mixing the Snowball. “If you don’t like it I’ll give you my drink.”

 

Bobby ignores Warren, and instead focuses on Percy, watching his movements intensely. There weren’t many people sitting at the bar, most of them are busy dancing, their bodies lost in the music. Bobby can barely make out his own thoughts in this, he’s having a hard time concentrating on what Warren’s saying, but he doesn’t seem to be making conversation anyway. 

 

Percy returns in a few moments, with their drinks, and Warren slips him 40$. Either the drinks were terribly overpriced, or Warren was an incredibly good tipper. Judging by Percy’s expression, it would be latter. Warren pushes the Snowball towards his friend, and then presses the Pink Lady towards his lips. 

 

Warren’s taste is on point. Bobby’s surprised by how dense the drink is, he wasn’t a big drinkers of cocktails, and instead usually stuck to neat drinks and beer. It tastes like a lighter version of spiked ice cream. He’s only made it once, more so on a dare with Jean on how quickly he could freeze a bottle of vodka. They mixed in with ice-cream a little later so it would be more pleasurable to consume.

 

“Do you like it?” Warren’s piercing eyes, deep blue and captivating, lock with his. His tongue licks the top of his lip, removing the small build up of foam. 

 

Warren is so  _ very _ intimate. He makes Bobby feel like he’s the only man in the world. If it this was anyone else, Bobby would think they're flirting!

 

Bobby nods. “You were right, wings.” He takes a long sip with a straw, not being able to look away. “It’s actually pretty good.” 

 

“I’ll take it you want another one?” Warren places the drink back to his lips. He doesn’t plan on drinking too much, he’s still recovering from last nights hangover, and rule of threes means the X-Men will be called on a mission tomorrow. 

 

“If I finish this.” Bobby says, looking at the bottles of alcohol lined against the wall rather than Warren. “But I thought we were here to dance?” Bobby doesn’t need to get drunk to let loose, as long as his friend is around. 

 

“Bottoms up, then!” Warren loves to dance almost as much as he loves to fly. He spent most of his nights in the city, as he was the only one who had a car of his own, so transport was never a problem. Warren chugs down his drink faster than Bobby anticipated. 

 

Bobby tries to match his speed but realizes that he can only drink so quickly using a straw. Warren’s patient, and he doesn’t seem to be rushing Bobby in his pursuit of the dance floor. He just gazes lovingly as Bobby, leaning against the counter. 

 

He knew from their past encounters at kitchen at three in the morning that Warren fit the ‘party animal’ stereotype. Warren always came home slightly buzzed, aching to let his wings out and hungry for the toaster pastries in the top shelf, while Bobby just watched him while eating soggy cereal. They made gentle conversation until a little later in the AM, before they would head back to their rooms. 

 

Bobby places the glass gently against the mahogany table, and then gets up. He feels a little more confident after slamming his drink in the most ridiculous way possible. He gives Warren the thumbs up. 

 

“Woah!” Bobby exclaims at just how hasty Warren is. 

 

It’s the signal Warren needs to take his hand and drag him to the over-crowded dance floor. People are banging their heads and jumping to the beat of the music. This is unlike any disco he’s ever been in before. He loses Warren when they get closer to the stage. 

 

Everyone is so cramped in the tight space, and Bobby doesn’t know how to dance in a place like this, his eyes hopelessly look around for Warren. The lights are flashing, as the new band begins their set. The main singer is a beautiful blonde, with a face of an angel, and for a moment, Bobby’s distracted by her and her kaleidoscope light show. He didn’t know that there was a way to create fireworks on such a minor scale, but it only mesmerizes him for a moment. The lead may have the voice of cherub, but she’s not the angel he’s looking for. 

 

There’s no use to yelling out Warren’s name, so he instead looks for the blonde locks against the sea of black. Thankfully, mostly due to Warren’s height, he isn’t that hard to find, as Bobby wades through the crowd, and grabs him by the hand again. Warren’s enthralled by the girl on stage, so he’d found his way to the front of the crowd. 

 

“Keep looking at her like that and you’ll blind your eyes.” Bobby says to grab Warren’s attention. He tries, and fails to hid the anxiety in his voice. 

 

“Hm?” Warren finally pulls his eyes away from the girl on stage, focusing on his eyes only on Bobby. “Oh, sorry I lost you. I looked back and you were gone.” 

 

“That’s just the story of my life.” Bobby says. People never seem to notice when he disappears. 

 

Warren gives Bobby a playful shove. “You really couldn’t get a cute girl to dance with you?” Warren asks, he speaks loudly due to their closeness to the speakers. “You’re plenty handsome.” 

 

“No.” Bobby doesn’t know how to say it, he doesn’t know how to say he has two left feet, nor does he know how to say that the only person he wants to dance with is Warren. This is due mostly to the fact that he has unresolved feelings for the man, but _also_ because he doesn’t know anyone else in the club. 

 

The girl on stage says something about what her next song would be. Warren turns his body towards Bobby, and slinks an arm around his waist. This is far more affectionate than he had anticipated. 

 

“If no one else wants to dance with you, I’ll take one for the team.” Warren says. “I think you’ll like the next song she’s playing, I think you wouldn't want to dance to alone.” 

 

“You’re so _cocky_.” Bobby says, looking away from Warren, afraid that he might notice how embarrassed he was, even if it was dark. “I could get a girl if I wanted to.” 

 

“But you want me, don’t you?” Warren presses his hip against Bobby’s. He’s beaming. Bobby’s mortified. “Don’t think I haven’t picked up on the signs you’ve been sending me.” 

 

Bobby has no idea what the signs _could_ be. Well, maybe he does have an idea, but he won’t admit to them. 

 

“That’s entrapment, which is illegal. I’m not going to respond to that.”

 

But Bobby’s not uncomfortable with the closeness. He likes Warren and the fact that he smells like sandalwood and jasmine--What kind of man smelled like that!

 

The band on stage begins the next song, and Bobby has to admit that he likes the song they’re playing. He finally looks back at Warren, who’s not bothered by their proximity. He can feel Warren’s breath on his neck.   
  


_Goddamn_. 

 

“I’m  _ not _ dancing with you because  _ I’m _ desperate.” Bobby says as their bodies shift with the music, Warren grinding against him. “I’m dancing with you because  _ you’re _ desperate.” 

 

Warren laughs, and Bobby does too. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [@diamondsynth, if you wanna hmu!](http://diamondsynth.tumblr.com/)


End file.
